Chapter 18
Horseshoe Cove is as charming as Edward described. A series of small, colorful cottages dot a sandy beach, the tide close to wooden porches but never touching. The houses aren't too close together, but make a pretty picture lined up from the right angle.
"Here, this one is Peter's." Edward leads me to a pretty blue cottage with an A-frame roof. It can't hold more than maybe one bedroom if that. He opens the windows when we get inside, and the filmy curtains instantly start waving in the breeze. I put my bag down and look around the room.
It's much smaller than Edward's cottage, with a tiny galley kitchen on one wall and a sofa and TV on the other. He points out the bathroom, what I thought was just a closet door. There's a wooden spiral staircase leading up to what Edward tells me is the sleeping loft.
It's so utterly bewitching, I fall in love with it instantly.
It could also be the man in the middle of the room who's looking at me with a happy but expectant look on his face.
"I love it." I reassure him.
"Joey and I come here sometimes when we need a real break. It can be rough living in a small town where everyone knows your business since you were born," he says with a laugh and I believe him.
I look down at the floor and see Joey is sniffing around, getting reacquainted. "Are you sure this isn't…"
Edward stops me by putting his hands on my shoulders. "It isn't. Joey loves it here."
I nod, hoping he's telling the truth that this isn't taking time away.
"I'll just put the groceries away and we can walk on the beach." Edward grabs the shopping bags and puts the food we bought on the way into the small fridge. I walk around and look at some pictures of Peter and what I assume is his partner from the way they're standing close, a handsome man with dimples and a bright smile.
I feel Edward's chin on my shoulder. "That's Emmett. They got married last year."
"He looks friendly."
"He is. Total goofball, but a nice guy. He lives in Boston, but they see each other as much as possible."
"That sounds hard." I can't help but think of our situation.
Edward lets me know he knows how my mind works. "It can be, but they make it work because they love each other."
My stomach butterflies at his words, but I just hum and walk to the open door. The curtains have escaped the windows and are flapping out over the wooden deck. There is a small table, two chairs, and a loveseat to one side. Joey walks out past me and stands on the deck, waiting.
"I think you're being summoned," I call, and Edward joins us, leaving the door open as we step onto the soft sand. "Is it safe to just leave it open?"
He grabs my hand, smiling. "Yes, it's safe. No one comes here. Peter's parents owned this place and he inherited it. It's a community, not a vacation destination. People own these places as second homes, they don't rent them. He points to the cottage closest to us. "That's Mary and Victor. They retired here about five years ago."
"They live here full time?" I thought Ogunquit was remote. It's practically a metropolis compared to this place. There was one gas station and grocery store combined about five miles ago.
"They do. They run a coffee shop and diner about a mile down the beach."
"Convenient." I joke, but secretly hope that maybe we'll make the walk tomorrow at sunrise.
We spend an hour walking up and down the beach in front of the cottages, talking. People wave from their decks, while some houses do look like they've been put away for summer. Joey gives up at one point and plops in the sand, tongue out, waiting for us to amble back to the house.
Edward never lets go of my hand, and I can't remember the last time I felt so wanted.
And so safe.
Eventually we make our way back inside, turning on the lights as the sky is dimming. Some outdoor string lights turn on, strung up around a few posts on the railings and with the curtains still fluttering in the night breeze, the whole place has an ethereal quality.
We put on some music and I open wine as Edward grills chicken, and we move in tandem around the small space like we've been living together for years. Eating on the small deck is nice even if it's a little chilly, and over the soft rolling of the tide, I can faintly hear Jeopardy! coming from Mary and Victor's cottage.
"So, you want to tell me what today was?" he asks, taking a sip of wine and holding my hand with the other.
"Thursday? Or maybe it's Friday, I really have no idea." I deflect. Just because I had an epiphany doesn't mean he feels the same way. I'm still too new at this to throw myself under a bus.
He says nothing, just waits patiently. Sighing, I try to figure out how to describe my psyche and rolling avalanche of thoughts. For a reporter who can edit down a thousand words into a concise five hundred, I sure can't do it when explaining myself.
"I'm terrified." I look him in the eyes and he still waits, no judgement in his eyes. I try to explain where my thoughts went today, my stubbornness and my epiphany.
He likes the epiphany a lot and gives me a squeeze, coaxing my head to his shoulder. "You know this doesn't have to be the end all be all of life, Bella. But we try. That's all we can do. But we have to do it with clear heads and hearts. There is no half-assing trying us."
"I've never tried an us before."
"I know, and I haven't really either, so we're in the same boat."
"Oh my God, I'm gonna have to get used to boats," I joke and make a frowny face at him.
"And I guess I'll have to learn how not to say hello to everyone on the street in New York."
My eyes widen, it hadn't occurred to me that we could do this both ways. I was thinking all or nothing for me to change my life. I feel like that's all I've been agonizing over. But maybe I don't have to do it all. If he's willing…
I sit up and look at him, my hand on his knee. "You'd do the half and half thing? Sometimes here, sometimes there?"
"I would. For you, I would."
"I think we're trying, Edward," I tease, but secretly I'm overwhelmed with the thought of it.
"I'd like to try something else."
"Oh yeah? What's that?" I ask, suddenly nervous.
He takes my wine and moves it to the table, before getting up and pulling me to my feet. He moves his arm around my waist and pulls me close, his hand clutching mine as he begins to move. We're dancing, on a tiny porch, on a chilly night with the ocean and some Yacht Rock playing, and my heart swells a thousand times over.
I've never danced. And when I confess that, he tells me the same.
"How can two adults never have danced before?" I laugh and hide my face in his sweater.
"I know my excuse, but you never danced? Like at a prom or fancy dinner? A wedding?"
"Never went to prom. Mike didn't dance, he was too interested in making deals. And I've been to one wedding, and it was at a winery with a bluegrass band. I've never danced romantically."
"I'm honored the word that comes to mind is romantic and not horrifyingly awkward."
"Well, we'll be awkward together," I say, and we sway to some cheesy song with the soft lapping of the ocean behind it. The lights move in the breeze and I press my head against Edward's chest, the beat of his heart a little sped up and I hope it's cause of me and not because he's tipsy.
I think about his heartbeat as we move to the soft music and realize I'm so thankful for it. That it exists. That he does. My eyes start to well up and I can't remember ever being as emotional as I've been these last two weeks.
The Grinch's heart is growing.
The soft beats of Bob Marley start and Edward stoops down to pick up Joey. He's wedged between us, dancing and moving around the deck in the swaying lights.
Don't worry 'bout a thing
Cause every little thing gonna be alright
We are silent, letting the words and breeze and ocean envelop us. I feel the tears travelling down my face, but I don't wipe them away. My hand finds Joey's back and I hold it there, my cheek pressed against Edward's heartbeat and my eyes blurring as I gaze at Joey. Edward's grip on my back moves to my shoulders as I sniff.
I'm overwhelmed with emotions I've held back for so long, but it's the love for this dog and his owner that have finally made them real. I continue to cry, more than I've cried since I was a little girl with a scraped knee on a cold, wet street with no one around to kiss it better.
Edward sings the words to Joey with a shaky voice and I lose it. His sweater is damp with my tears as I stroke Joey's fur, and I kiss him on his paw and hold it against Edward under my chin. I join in on the next chorus and we softly sing to Joey, hoping he understands how much he is loved. The moment is dark and moody, and it feels like we're not only alone here on this porch and on this beach, but on the entire planet as well.
Eventually Joey asks to be put down, and as soon as Edward places him on the ground he plops into his bed and Edward hugs me, his strong arms wrapped around me tight. His cheek lays against my head and I can feel his tears there and I wish I had as much strength as him so I could wrap him tightly the way he does me.
I do the best that I can and a sob escapes him. We hold onto each other firmly and we cry together. Edward pulls away first, his red eyes searching mine. I'm sure I'm a mess, tears running down my face and I'm sure my nose is red. His hands go to my cheeks and he leans down to kiss me, taking my breath away.
He's not gentle, and I welcome it.
We're a standing tangle of limbs until Edward breaks away. He grabs Joey and I take his bed, no instruction needed. We lay his bed on the floor near the couch where he instantly curls up and shuts his eyes. Edward takes my hand and I follow him up the spiral staircase without hesitation.
He undresses me, watching my body move as I help him remove my clothing. His eyes are a heavy, deep blue as he touches me. "You're so beautiful," he says, before wrapping his arms around me to kiss me again.
My hands push his jeans down while he takes off his sweater and t-shirt. His feet finish the job of removing his pants as my hands run over his bare chest. My fingers lightly run across the scar of his port and I see his stomach muscles clench. I wonder if it makes him uncomfortable, and my eyes fly to his, but he doesn't tell me to stop. He makes a soft sound when I lean in and press my lips against the marred skin, thankful for this life-saving blemish on his otherwise perfect chest.
"I love you," I say, without any hesitation in me.
"I love you," he repeats, and I believe it.
He moves me to the bed and we lay naked together, exploring with our eyes, lips, and hands. I've never 'made love', but I can imagine this is what the term means. Edward moves over me and kisses me as I feel him press against me. My legs open for him, welcoming him in and we come together, fitting like we were made for each other.
There are many reasons people make love. Pure passion, of course, but the bigger ones are to show their love for one another, or to find comfort and connection in grief. For us, it's a little of both.
We move in a slow, languid dance as Edward moves in me, his hands holding my head, his lips kissing mine frequently and it feels so good I want to explode into a million pieces. The burn starts to increase in my belly and I raise up to meet him again and again. His pace intensifies and his body pushes mine into the mattress with more force. Soon we're both moaning, our sweaty foreheads pressed together until Edward raises his, his eyes connected with mine as he moves his hand down to where we are joined.
He strokes me, my breathing rapid and shuddering and I come, actually exploding, parts of me feeling an intensity I've never experienced. He says my name shortly after and I feel him push into me hard until he's gasping for breath and his forehead returns to mine. My hands reach up to grab his wrists, his hands still firmly holding my head. We breathe into each other while our bodies are still connected, and I've never felt such a primal need to stay that way with someone before.
Eventually he slides off me but keeps me in his arms and we lay amongst the now wrinkled white sheets, our hair ruffling softly in the cool air from the ceiling fan above. His lips don't stop tasting me. My shoulder. My arm. My chin. My stomach. He lavishes affection on me until it stops being affectionate and begins to get needy. My hand moves between us to grip him, and soon enough he's hard and flips us so I'm riding him.
My hands are on the pillow as he guides my hips, my hair hanging in a curtain cocooning us. He thrusts up to meet me each time, and soon enough I feel the tension start. I cry out when he tells me to lean back so he can watch me come. It's hot and sexy and not a command I'd usually appreciate, but Edward makes everything safe. His thumb rolls over me and once again, I'm tumbling into bliss with him quickly following. I lay on him in a sweaty heap as he kisses my neck softly.
We smile goofy at each other but it's not embarrassing. There's no need from either of us to get out of bed, get dressed or pretend we have something else to do. It's how I always imagined Sunday mornings to be. Lying in bed naked, completely comfortable with each other while feeding each other toast and reading the paper in between bouts of fantastic sex.
Eventually, Edward says as he's half-asleep that he needs to let Joey out. I tell him to relax, I got it and I'll bring him up with me so he can sleep with us. Edward smiles and holds my hand until I get out of reach. Pulling on his shirt, I climb down the staircase and wake Joey to let him out. My legs are chilly but after the heated exchange upstairs, I welcome it.
Joey does his business and I give him a cookie. As he's chomping down on the biscuit, I see a folded-up piece of paper on the small counter.
The list. Edward must've pulled it out of his pocket when he dropped his wallet and keys.
I bite my lip and touch it with my finger, hoping it'll pop open or drop on the floor. I look at the staircase, at Joey, and back at the paper. He did invite me to look at it when we were in 'Europe' so I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I took a peek now.
I unfold it gingerly like it's a lost passage from a medieval tome.
There are three columns. One called 'Possible", the other called 'Improbable' and a third called 'Impossible'. Everything in the possible column is crossed off – jumping out of a plane, the lighthouse, motorcycle rides, and a few others. Europe is on the improbable list, but that too is crossed off.
Looking at the impossible column, there's one item. It's not crossed off.
My breath hitches and I look over at Joey, who's looking up at me. I hear Edward's heavy breathing and grab my phone.
I don't know her number, but the email at the hotel will have to do.
Alice, I need your help.
I leave my number in the email and pick up Joey, quietly taking him upstairs.
So I pride myself on doing research, being as accurate in my stories as possible right down to street names and the going price for meth, but I have to admit, I've made this place up. Horseshoe Cove exists, but not the pretty little bungalows.
I am so sorry, but I will be taking the next two weeks off for the holidays. I wish you all the best time spent with family, friends, pets, or yourself. Whatever you choose. Love you all so, so much. See you in 2025!
I wouldn't do any of this without my girls, CarrieZM and LayAtHomeMom.
This is for Squiggy.